


Subdue me

by Fachi



Series: Fluffy assassins and murder clowns [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fachi/pseuds/Fachi
Summary: When Illumi fell asleep in his arms, Hisoka wondered if he should just go and leave for good.





	Subdue me

**Author's Note:**

> As Illumi already got his OOC fluff chapter, I had to do one for Hisoka, too! :D
> 
> EDIT: It's 2018 now and this is the fic of mine I like the least, by far. I thought about abandoning it more than once, but couldn't quite bring myself to do it in the end. But hey, hating old art is a good thing sometimes. It means that I have improved.  
> Just don't judge me as an author just based on this fic, please. I've got much better stuff for you to read.

* * *

When Illumi fell asleep in his arms, Hisoka wondered if he should just go and leave for good.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

There it was again. The night had fallen a few hours ago and the faint knocking on the window glass had not left him alone ever since. Hisoka knew perfectly well that he was the only one to hear it as Illumi had not awoken from the pestering sound, he never would. Every night after dusk, the knocking came to the jester for as long as he cared to remember, but it kept growing louder and louder still for quite some time now. There was someone out there, craving his attention – some _thing_ calling out for him beyond the comfortable enclosures of his apartment.

Hisoka turned his head to look outside, but all he came to see was his own reflection staring back at him. The window glass seemed to have chosen to mirror the dim light of the room instead of granting the view into the darkness that lay beneath. Tinted in the most pleasant hue of orange, the window defied satisfying his curiosity but the jester could not help but smirk at the sight.

Although far from uncommon, the domestic scene in the glass still struck him as absurd. It probably always would, no matter how many times he would come to face it again. Snuggled up like a puppy to Hisoka’s relaxed body lay the deadliest assassin of the Zoldyck-breed, occupying his upper arm as a makeshift pillow. A picture for the gods in this comedy of fate.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Hisoka let his head fall down upon the pillow and came to face the ceiling. _Nice try_. As if not seeing anything would stifle the faint pounding that had already made itself so comfortable in the back of his mind. After all, he did not even need to gaze outside to know where these sounds eroded from.

Hisoka forked his free hand through the vermillion abundance on his head. Even though it was pointless, he still kept looking for the source of the knocking times and again, driven by the futile thought that one day, he might come to see something substantial materializing from the dark. But the endless black of the night knew no form when she was crying out to him and sang of tales about unfathomable opportunities within her depths.

The jester smiled briefly. Hearing her sing made him happy in some way.

Hisoka listened to the arrhythmic lure and could tell how dearly the night was missing him, her old friend. He could not seem to remember, but some time ago, the jester had been visiting the dark so frequently that she had become a part of him just as much he had become a part of her. Not holding him in her embrace had to cause her suffering and indeed, she was sparring him for quite some time now. Years already? Probably.

The jester truly was an unfaithful companion, had he always just taken from her and hardly given anything in return – maybe it was about time he changed that.

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

Hisoka could not help but think about how acquainted it always had felt when the night would welcome him back into her loving embrace. There was something indefinably irresistible about darkness that Hisoka still lacked the proper words to describe. She encompassed many qualities he cherished – anonymity, solitude and silence amongst them. But what most likely had lured him strongest into her obscure embrace times and times again, was her complete lack of confines. All boundaries vanished in the dark and what had been impossible to access turned borderless once it would cast no shadow. Size did no longer exist, as did time and place. Trapped inside the complete visual deprivation of the night, power in its purest form was the only thing Hisoka would come to sense – everywhere around him in mediocre amounts as well as overwhelming abundances in the greatest distances, marking his next aim. It had been breathtakingly _exciting_.

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

No, it was not just his imagination – the knock on the window glass now came in increasingly shorter intervals. Hisoka listened to the silent beat inside his head and felt his feet move to the rhythm, tickling with vigour to run and disappear. The night was a siren alright and she knew just the right verses to sing to tear down his walls.

He found himself remembering the lightweight of his steps just after the gates of darkness had been closing him in. The gates had been heavy, unmovable by human force, and nothing could persist between her mighty leafs. Whatever the bond that would follow Hisoka in, it had been irreparably cut by the crushing weight of darkness and once dawn would break the obscure, Hisoka would emerge without any past burden slowing down his steps.

_TAP. TAP. TAP._

She had heard him, the night must have had heard his heart longing for their joyful times, since now her knocking passed for a pounding that nearly shattered the window glass. The volume was nearly unbearable, but a part of Hisoka wanted it to rise still, as it _needed_ the glass to be broken. It was the very same part that sounded desperate screams into the night every single day after dusk. And the night always answered its calls.

_Break me out of here._

_TAP._

_Come in to me._

_TAP._

_Take me away with you._

_TAP. TAP. TAP._

When the night would scream at him, it was because that part of him had wanted her to. That one nameless force inside his ribcage that craved nothing more but to be one with her again. It needed Hisoka to stand, to run and to reunite with the somberness so badly that it ensued havoc inside his chest, thrusting against his ribs loud enough to drown his heartbeat in the noise. It was screaming in terror. Hisoka knew it was mortally afraid, deadly terrified of choking on the chains of his heart bonding him to the man in his arms.

And Hisoka knew its fear was _reasonable_.

Illumi shifted slightly in his sleep and when Hisoka tightened his hold on the toned body out of reflex, his fingers touched jungle rain where they connected to the man’s bared skin. Magma pulse throbbed through his hand and the jester laid his eyes upon the sleeping man when suddenly, the pounding was gone.

As if he had fallen deaf from one second to the other, there was no more noise to hear. Silence encompassed him, so intensely and profoundly that Hisoka felt lost for a moment. His ears rang as if he had just slumped out of a nightclub onto the dead street and it took him a moment to adjust. But then the one and only thing he came to hear were the assassin’s placid breaths against his chest, deep and even. _In and out. In and out. In and out._

Hisoka felt himself mirroring the pattern, making his chest fall when the other’s rose, perfectly connecting their torsos in every curve. A river of black hair drowned half the assassin’s face and the jester rose his free hand to gently reroute the stream. Long strands of the purest obsidian gave way under Hisoka’s fingers and freed the pale features underneath.

By now, Hisoka had already realized that it was the sheer sight of the raven possessing the power to convince the pounding to stop. It was as if the night itself stood in awe of all the darkness that was Illumi, as if she did not dare rivalling his shadows knowing she would stand pale against his ventablack essence. The night bowed to the king of the dark and humbly retreated out of earshot, patiently waiting for the next dusk to fall to raise her voice again.

The jester enjoyed the silence that seemed to persist and a little smile bloomed on his face at the sight of a pair of slightly parted lips, warm light invitingly radiating upon. Hisoka loved seeing Illumi sleep. There was something surprisingly comforting about having someone close who felt this relaxed in his presence, something tender and peaceful that muffled the nameless force inside of him.

He knew these moments were a luxury, something he could barely afford to taste. The jester was perfectly aware of the fact that he hardly did anything making trusting him worthwhile. He was the last one to deserve trust and trust was the last thing he aimed for. If he was honest with himself, even Hisoka could not understand what had brought this powerful man to a rest in his arms. But he had certainly grown fond of it.

Hisoka observed the soft shadows the warm and artificial light was casting upon Illumi’s face, and admired how it was emphasizing the sharp edges on his masculine features. The raven had lost all his baby fat over the past years and his formerly soft face now stood clear and defined against the pitch black of his long hair. These onyx cascades had remained the only thing on his body some would deem ‘feminine’.

But the more Hisoka would look at it, the more he found the curtain of black to be a token of sheer male dominance rather than a trait of delicacy. He could remember the times he would see Illumi standing in the cold wind of the night, before or after a mission, and how the inked sea floating around him had made his appearance all the more breathtakingly intimidating.

Hisoka groaned lowly at the thought. Yes, Illumi was powerful at all times, but those cherished moments in which every pore of his body would come to exhale ‘menace’ were the ones in which Hisoka could never pry his eyes from his assassin. They said there lay great danger in beauty, but the jester knew it was exactly the other way around: Danger was what made things beautiful.

One of Illumi’s long strands found its way between his fingers and Hisoka began to twist it around with care. Its texture was smooth and so silky that it felt wet against his touch, much as if he was fumbling a rivulet of tar rather than human hair. He nearly expected it to rub its rich colour off on his fingers, but no matter how often he would turn and squeeze the jet, his digits remained clean and its shade as deep as always. Hisoka observed the strand as he let it flow from his hand and he could swear he heard a little _splash_ when it reunited with the river. His smile grew just a bit wider.

Touching Illumi always felt inhumanly intense. Hisoka did not know the reason for sure, but he liked to think the extreme eroded from the clash of their sheer auras colliding. Their life forces surged in response to each other’s presence whenever they would meet and he liked to imagine them engaging in a powerful dance whose rhythm distorted the nature of skin and hair to new and unprecedented sensations.

The jester could always feel Illumi’s aura breaking against his chest, every surge a wave of electricity, and how his own life force responded by discharging into the other’s body. The rhythm was steady, intensely acquainted and yet still so exciting that Hisoka was certain it might still take long, long years until Illumi would eventually grow to bore him.

But the jester knew that this day would come, sooner or later. It was inevitable.

One day, he would wake up next to someone who had become but a faded Polaroid of what he used to be. A picture drawn in shades of grey barely distinguishable from another, bleached by the sun, slowly but steadily and hardly noticeable, but Hisoka would finally see. He might want to close his eyes in disbelief then and reopen them just to confirm that ultimately, all darkness had vanished from the person called Illumi.

Then there would be nothing left keeping him from the night.

If Hisoka was perfectly honest with himself, he did not fear that morning to come. He had nothing to be afraid of, nothing to lose that he had not been prepared to set free from the start. Things came and went in the unstoppable treadmill that was life and Hisoka would continue to strive for the darkness of mankind until his last nightfall.

 _No night was meant to last forever_ , the jester thought, pressing Illumi’s warm body just a tad closer to himself.

“What are you thinking about?” Hisoka snapped back into reality upon Illumi’s hushed words. Not having noticed how far lost in thought he had been, the jester turned to face endless orbs as dark as the void, and grinned at their familiar unfathomable depth. Their stare felt as a bottomless abyss was drawing him in, pulling his form with unbearable gravity and Hisoka fell, fell long and deep into the black without any hope of ever hitting the ground, forever encompassed by the dark.

He did barely recognize how his lips hit the other’s temple in a chaste kiss and a volcano exploded in the wasteland. “You’re awake?” Hisoka spoke, parting with burning lips and oddly disconnected from himself. Illumi’s eyes were magnetic and slowly pulling him apart, making him do things he realized only seconds after. The jester was not ashamed to notice, rather he was content that this inhumane craving for the other fulfilled itself for he was not even sure what he craved – he just wanted _more_ of Illumi.

Hisoka raked his fingers through the midnight river and subdued his hand in ink. Illumi gazed at him with those smothering eyes unblinking. “Yeah, I’ve been for a couple of minutes.” A couple of minutes? Hisoka detangled the liquid ends with patience and tried to remember when he had fallen inattentive, had he not even noticed the change in the assassin’s breathing pattern.

The raven shifted to his side, rose from Hisoka’s upper arm and propped up his elbow to rest his head upon his palm. “You seem troubled.” A statement. Abysmal orbs drilled into the jester’s mind as they fixated his eyes ever so intensely. The intimate stare carried the unspoken truth with it that the raven knew there was something hidden beneath Hisoka’s golden eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

No accuse, no pestering, no distrust. Just honest curiosity was what lay in Illumi’s question and the true answer to it made it hard not to break the stare. _I was thinking of leaving you and never coming back again_.

The corners of Hisoka’s mouth twitched upwards slightly before the jester bridged the distance and pressed a kiss upon the other’s lips. The plush skin came to feel like lukewarm mercury under the touch and the powerful pulse of aura vibrated on his lips like an agitated beehive. Hisoka sighed in contentment.

“Troubled, me?” grinned the jester against the other’s mouth, “Oh, tonight just seems lovely. I wondered if we should go for a stroll later on.”

Before the words had even left his mouth, Hisoka knew that Illumi knew they formed a lie. But the assassin did not word it, he never would. He would just lie there in silence, knowing that no amount of prodding could reveal any more of the truth than Hisoka had initially wanted to share. Thus, he would just save the energy a fruitless discussion would cost and fed it to his aura instead, making it hang thick in disappointment.

Hisoka buried his nose into Illumi’s hair, heaved a breath into the ebony river and was simply thankful that the raven did not push away. Pressing the other to his chest, the jester took in the decent scent of everything that was Illumi. Even his smell seemed to scream ‘power’ at the top of its lungs, so heavy and so light with aura that it was hardly perceivable and yet impossible to miss at once.

He listened closely into the darkness beyond the window glass but heard nothing more from her this night. Only Illumi’s breathing, a calm and steady rhythm at first, but then a labored rigged mess as the night proceeded, danced like music in his ears. It occupied his entire mind as he was feasting on the notes and the thought of ever parting from this oeuvre seemed as far away as if it had never existed in the first place.

When dawn broke on them through the window front, Hisoka was covering Illumi’s naked body with his skin, trying to sheathe every exposed square centimeter with himself. Auras pulsed in unison through every connected cell as Illumi lay just as motionless, probably as awe-struck by the sensation of being _whole_ as he was.

That was when Hisoka realized that as long as Illumi’s body would feel like molten shadows and midnight thunder against his form, the dark would never be able again to lure him away.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit me at hisoillu-is-life.tumblr.com if you like and let's chat!
> 
> Aaand if you notice any major mistakes, please let me know. I'm still struggling with English sometimes~


End file.
